Emma can't quite work up a response to missing Henry. She does, of course she does, yet a part of her tries to avoid admitting it out loud. Like that would make that claw slicing through her heart every day she's away from her son a little less painful. It doesn't, really, yet maybe it makes that pain a little less present. Tucked away and hidden in her heart where it festers like poison, instead of worn on her face and pulling down her attempts to find a way back to him.

The idea it looks like something her mother had worn once clearly hits Emma soundly. Even when things are still a bit strained between her and Mary Margaret, Emma loves her desperately. Wants to make her proud. And, yes, wants to have things in her life that remind her of her mother.

"Really?" she murmurs, clearly conflicted in a way she wasn't before. She sighs, trying to fight up the willpower to be strong and responsible, and failing. "I've got a few coins. You're not going to just buy it for me." They'd probably have to split it, that was the most compromise that Red was likely to get.